The Art of Running and Hiding
by Duchess Delanie
Summary: Fishlegs really, really does not want a girlfriend at this time in his life.
1. The Art of Running and Hiding

The fact of the matter was that Fishlegs had always felt, as depressing as it was, safe.

That wasn't to say that he did not hope to one day get some sort of girlfriend; honestly, he had never had too much doubt in that realm considering he was strong, not horrible-looking, and well-aware of the grimly high death rates among Viking males. A little crude courtship combined with some effort in not dying tragically and he was pretty much guaranteed to get a girl sooner or later.

But he had always figured on the later. And he was perfectly fine with that. Who needed a girlfriend at his age? He could never understand why his friends were so focused on impressing the girls. It wasn't that he was afraid of them, per say. He actually enjoyed the girls' company. The girls were pretty, neater, and gave off the whole awesome girly vibe. No, he had absolutely no complaints whatsoever with the girls. He was happy to hang out with them as long as they would put up with him—a time frame that always seemed to vary.

Platonic friendship? Yes. Maybe a sprinkle of all that hormonal tension? Sure, it couldn't really be helped anyway. But a relationship? That was completely out of the question. He had training to complete, books to read, adolescence to overcome, and a few more battles on social awkwardness to wage.

He thought that was all pretty clear to the others. Especially the last detail. And that was why he had always felt safe.

Apparently there was no logic in the female mind.

The first spark of fear had lit one day when Ruffnut had smiled at him instead of punching or insulting him. Oh, some people say she was just being nice, but when you grow up with someone, you can't help but observe her behavior patterns. Now Astrid saw no difference between bodily injury and more mild forms of affection. Ruffnut, on the other hand, was much more feminine when it came to flirtation. So a one-day skip from ignoring or insulting him to a smile… well, that was drastic.

She was on the hunt.

He had watched with some amusement when she had been after Hiccup. Now the tables were turned and it wasn't nearly so funny.

Fishlegs had no prior knowledge of just how he should react. So he had returned the smile with some degree of terror and went on his way.

The next day she talked to him. Of course they had talked before, chatted about whatever, and that hadn't been anything important.

This talking was different. This was her sidling up close to him, smiling that smile, and asking "So, Fishlegs, how much can you lift?"

Her eyes were right on him. The girl had eyes like a cat.

He had no response to that. "Um… I don't really work out."

"You look like you do."

All right, so he admittedly did have a lot of muscle underneath the chubbiness, but that was pretty much just how he was built. "Um…" He needed a good conversation stopper. What always turned the others off? "So I'm trying to get permission to completely rewrite the dragon book."

Didn't work. Her grin only widened. "You're such a smart guy."

He escaped by making some excuse about forgetting something and ran for dear life.

He laid low for the next few days. Caution was his best friend. Venture outside only when necessary, stay in large crowds…

And Ruffnut would still be there, smiling at him from a distance.

He was going to soon perfect the art of running and hiding.

There had to be logic to this. Somewhere amid this nightmare was some answer to the mystery? Why him? He didn't think he was really Ruffnut's type. She had only gone after Hiccup when he had rose to the head of their class. Fishlegs had not done anything that cool.

But he couldn't hide forever. And there she was , a constant source of terror and flirting.

He had never been a good flirt. But she seemed to be well-versed enough in flirtation for the both of them.

Always the comments. "Hi, Fishlegs." "How has your day been?" "Will you lift this axe for me?"

And it became worse. "You're so smart." "You're kind of cute." And then "You should come study this dragon with me."

He should never fallen for it. But he did. One afternoon he followed her out into the woods. Where there was no dragon.

He made the mistake of pointing it out.

Ruffnut just shrugged. "I can't believe you fell for that."

He was getting rather uncomfortable. "Then… why are we here?"

And all she did was smile and lean up close to him. "Why do you think we're here?"

"Well, you kind of lied to me."

"You're so cute."

This wasn't good. Not at all. This was a very bad thing. He gulped. "I think I hear my mom calling me…"

"Don't you think I'm cute?"

Ruffnut didn't have the Astrid angelic sweetness, but she was kind of hot. But Fishlegs didn't dare answer. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing." And with that she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

She was an awfully good kisser. He had to admit that. Not that he had much experience. Not that he could really think about it. All he felt was a very unnerving combination of shock, horror, and a little too much enjoyment of the situation.

He was going to have a panic attack.

So he pushed her away as gently as he could. "I have really got to go." He sped into the trees as fast as he could.

"Don't you dare run from me!" she screamed after him.

He was going to leave the island. Go be a hermit somewhere. That would fix everything. Go somewhere without crazy girls. He stumbled into the village and bent over, panting. He was momentarily free.

"Fishlegs."

He looked up. There stood Tuffnut, arms crossed, expression furious.

Fishlegs gasped for breath.

Tuffnut's took a step closer. "Just what exactly were you doing with my sister?"

This was not a good day at all.


	2. The Art of Plotting Revenge

_So this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I guess I'm now continuing it. Hope y'all enjoy! I'll get an actual plot going; there will be more chapters after this one._

_I mention Ruffnutt's amazing hair in this. I think she does have the best hair in Berk. Come on, ladies, who would not kill for hair as long and thick as hers?_

* * *

He had abandoned her.

Ruffnutt stood there in what should have been a romantic woodland setting—completely and absolutely alone. Abandoned.

While Fishlegs had run off, leaving her here like yesterday's unwanted bread. Oh, she had screamed after him, but he had just kept on running. Why? Hadn't she heard that hidden threat that always came from her every time she screamed something at anybody?

Was she losing her touch?

Ruffnutt picked up a rock, screamed again, and chucked the rock straight into the trees. A squirrel shrieked angrily at her. Then she plopped down onto the ground, ready to pout. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry.

Good thing no one was here to see her crying.

What was so wrong with her that would send Fishlegs scurrying as fast as he could away from her? She was a reasonably good fighter—could certainly hold her own with a weapon. She had the best hair of any girl in the village. And she was interesting? Wasn't she interesting?

Had she been so wrong in interpreting Fishleg's feelings? Maybe that was it. She had always been a little… enthusiastic. And Fishlegs had always been, if not exactly a loner, a little more reserved about his feelings.

He had always liked talking to her, hadn't he? He had never been afraid to talk to her. Wasn't that a sign that he liked her? And one time when he had accidentally knocked her over during training he had apologized and helped her up. Her hand still tingled thinking about that. None of the other boys would have bothered to help her up.

And he was only the sweetest guy in the village. He had never joined in with teasing Hiccup quite as much as she had. She had thought that would have shown some sensitivity.

Apparently she was wrong.

And then she had gone and humiliated herself by being… what was the nice term? Enthusiastic. No, that wasn't right. She was flirting. She was the only girl in the village that actually knew how to flirt. Talk to a guy. Make him feel good. Compliment him. Smile at him. Make him sense a little femininity in this dreary and barbaric world. Astrid was her best friend and all, but all that girl could do was beat up people.

All that flirting had been for not. Fishlegs didn't care about her.

Was this what heartbreak felt like?

Ruffnutt remembered the very first moment she had looked at Fishlegs and saw someone besides the weird brainy kid with whom she had grown up. In a single moment the weirdness became individuality, uniqueness. The braininess became intelligence, something so many Vikings severely lacked. A bookish guy was someone with whom she could actually have a conversation with. And the adolescent growth spurt had done him well. He was so big and tough and cuddly. Like that one bear out she was trying to hunt down and kill.

But apparently Fishlegs hated her.

She continued to cry. Yes, this was definitely heartbreak. Hiccup had been a small crush. Astrid could have him. But Ruffnutt… was it so impossible for her to have one guy?

Why did the one she want have to reject her like that?

She picked up another rock and threw it into the trees. This time she heard a branch snap. She was getting some power in her arms. So much for all those claims she heard about lack of upper body strength in women. She would show them. She would show Fishlegs.

No one rejected Ruffnutt.

She would make him pay.

Revenge would be so sweet.

She headed back to the village, hoping her eyes weren't too red from crying. She couldn't let Fishlegs see how much he had hurt her.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice her.

Right on the outskirts of the village he was engaged in a rather brutal wresting and punching match with her brother. How nice. Her dear brother coming to the defense of her honor. She blew them both a kiss and continued on her way.

The last kiss Fishlegs would ever get from her.

She had the perfect revenge. He didn't want her? Fine. She was going to completely ignore him.

She knew guys. She knew how upset Tuffnuttt would get when she ignored him.

It would drive Fishlegs nuts.


	3. The Art of Asking for Advice

"For the last time, I wasn't doing anything with your sister!" Fishlegs pinned Tuffnutt's forearm to the ground with one arm and defended another blow with the other. A few quick twists and natural brute strength and he had his current enemy grounded. Momentarily. The past fifteen minutes had been quite even, well matched back and forth between the both of them. But Fishlegs felt the beating-the-snot-out-of-each-other thing was getting old.

"You went into the woods with her," Tuffnutt said through clenched teeth as he struggled under Fishlegs' hold. "Don't you think I know what happens out in the woods?"

"She's the one that led me out there!"

"Oh? And you just followed along completely innocent? If you did anything to my sister, or if you even think of doing anything to her, I will be slicing out your intestines from smallest to largest."

"That's disgusting and I doubt you'd even recognize the anatomy!"

Tuffnutt took a deep breath and heaved Fishlegs away. Fishlegs balled his fists, ready for the next blow. But Tuffnutt merely sat up, panting and wiping the last of the blood from his nose.

They both had to look awful. Fishlegs' eye was throbbing and there was definitely something not lined up correctly in his knee.

"So you still say she's the one that kissed you?"

Fishlegs nodded. No attack seemed immediate, so he just allowed the time for much needed breath. "Do you believe me now?"

"No. Really, you should haven't admitted that five minutes in."

"I swear, I did nothing."

Tuffnutt nodded and gasped for breath.

Maybe they were both simply now too tired to fight.

"She kissed you?"

Fishlegs decided he didn't like Tuffnutt's tone. What was it? He wasn't good enough for Ruffnutt to kiss? "Do we have to go through this all over again?"

"Later, man. You knocked the wind out of me back there. And you just shoved her away and ran off all innocent?"

Oh, boy, Fishlegs didn't want to punch him again. "Talk to her about."

Tuffnutt's eyes narrowed. "All right. I will. And if the truth comes out that it was all your fault, I'm going to kill you. And if you upset her in any way, I'm going to kill you. Got it?"

Fishlegs closed his eyes and exhaled. He just wanted this day to be over. He hadn't asked for any of this. He just wanted to go about his usual things and just be… preferably ignored, if that was not a horrible thing to ask. "Got it. You'll kill me. Slice out my intestines."

"Good." Silence. "Are we still on for fishing later on?"

"I'm still planning on it."

"All right. See you later, then. Unless I have to kill you."

Fishlegs buried his face in his hands as Tuffnutt's footsteps faded away. What was going on? He had never been so confused. And he was supposed to be the smart one. One of the few sources of actual intelligence in this town. He wasn't supposed to feel confused.

But in the matter of half an hour he had been attacked by a pretty girl who decided to liplock with him and then attacked by her apparently overly protective brother who seemed ready to kill him no matter how things turned out. He really hoped it wouldn't interfere with fishing. They had always been good fishing buddies, he and Tuffnutt.

He hadn't asked for it. He didn't want a girlfriend. He didn't need a girlfriend. Girls were pretty and they smelled nice, but he really couldn't spend a lot of time worrying about them.

None of this made any sense. How did Hiccup deal with it? No, Hiccup dealt with it because he actually wanted a girlfriend and was thus able to deal with a girlfriend that happened to constantly punch people.

He almost wished Ruffnutt had just punched him instead of the kiss.

Though it had been a nice kiss. He couldn't really complain about the kiss. The kissing was great.

It just made him very very confused.

He decided he would ask Hiccup how he dealt with everything. Maybe he would be willing to give advice. Fishlegs climbed to his feet and made his way over to the blacksmith shop.

Inside Gobber was pounding away at some glowing oddity of metal while Hiccup appeared to be melting something down.

"Hi," they both said without looking up.

"Hi," Fishlegs replied. He stood watching them, feeling rather awkward. Not that they seemed to care.

"Can I do something for you, Fishlegs?" Gobber finally asked. "Like medical attention? It's just that your eye there is swelling something fierce."

"I actually wanted to talk to Hiccup."

Gobber nodded and pointed the glowing oddity of metal at Hiccup. "He's all yours."

"Because it's apparently okay to distract me while I'm dealing with molten steel," Hiccup said. "Go right ahead, talk to me, just don't get all upset if I don't make eye contact."

"Oh, Okay." Fishlegs twisted his hands. "Um, I'm not sure how to begin. Ruffnutt said she had something to show me, so I followed her out into the woods and she sort of… well, kissed me."

The container of molten steel nearly plopped from its container as Hiccup quickly made contact. "How long as that been going on?"

"I don't know! She's been really weird lately. Talking to me. Touching my arm."

Gobber laughed. "You're hard for a girl to resist, Fishlegs."

"But I don't want it! Hiccup, what am I supposed to do?"

Hiccup shrugged. "Why are you asking me? I'd give you a thumbs up and a pat on the back, but I'm kind of busy with this and I really don't want to burn you."

"Which I really would appreciate. But what am I supposed to do? How do I keep her away from me?"

"I don't know."

"But you have a girlfriend. Astrid." A thought crossed his mind, one of hope. Girls were always talking to each other, weren't they? And Astrid and Hiccup were going out. "Has she said anything to you about this?"

Hiccup was silent. He poured the liquid metal into a mold.

"She has, hasn't she?"

"Actually…" Hiccup blushed. "I don't know. She might have."

"What do you mean? She might have, but you don't know."

"Well, sometimes she really talks a lot and not all of it is interesting and I sometimes tune her out."

Fishlegs gasped. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"I don't know. But I just nod and pretend like I'm listening. I just listen enough in case she asks me what I think. But I don't listen to everything."

Fishlegs turned to Gobber, who nodded. "It's true. It's a survival skill."

Fshlegs collapsed into a stool. "What am I going to do?"

"Was it a good kiss?" Hiccup asked.

"Yeah. It really was. She's a good kisser. But I've been avoiding her for days. She just… tricked me. It was completely deceitful. A dirty, dirty trick."

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" Gobber suggested. "They love that."

"If she likes it, why should I do it?"

"Explain to her that you are not interested. Be honest, be firm, and don't let the tears scare you."

Fishlegs stood up. Talking. Logic. It made so much sense. He could do this. "Thanks, I guess."

"Good luck," Hiccup called with a snicker.

Fishlegs just hoped Ruffnutt would be as easy to find as she always was.


	4. The Art of Doing Hair

_Thanks to everyone! You guys rock! Though I would like apologize to any males I may have offended in the last chapter._

_Um, I'm going to go ahead and share something special about this story-and kind of the reason I wrote it. I saw this movie on a big ol' group date with my husband. And as we were watching the movie, hubby and I realized in horror that we saw ourselves up on the screen. Personality-wise, I'm Ruffnutt and he's Fishlegs. So, yeah, there's the heart part of this story._

* * *

Girls carried secrets. Girls would always carry secrets. It was merely the nature of girls to do so and to think females could work any other way was denying creation. Secrets were important to girls, and they treasured what they could.

One of those secrets, one they kept far from the boys even though they were pretty sure the boys all knew about it, was hair.

Hair was important. Was it not the glory of a woman to display her hair proudly? But in Berk the word glory seemed better suited to killing things and drenching oneself in the blood of something killed. Despite the obvious pastoral qualities of the village killing and plundering and the like just had too great a reputation. And no one was complaining about that, per say. Ruffnutt loved the idea of killing things and drenching herself in blood. Probably just the idea—she didn't know what she would do if it actually came down to it. Most likely freak and faint. The boys, oh, the boys would probably love it. Boys were disgusting that way. Which is why they reserved the word of glory for battle, the arena, and most recently dragon training. Rough, wild, fierce stuff. It seemed to be all that mattered to them.

Which is why they would never understand the simple pleasures of doing hair.

Ruffnutt and Astrid sat near the fragrant herb patch outside Astrid's home. Nothing spectacular grew there, but it was a charming place and they had always liked it. Ruffnutt had pulled her hair from its braids and ties. She did like knotting her hair in interesting ways, but she could never quite get over just how cool it was to see it out at its true length and volume. Astrid too had unbraided her hair, and it flipped into its natural tendency to curl.

"How can you stand all that hair, Ruff?" Astrid asked as she pulled a brush through her own. "How much does it weigh and how on earth do you wash it?"

Because they usually wound up hiding the hair care sessions from the boys, these were questions that simply did not get to be answered often enough.

"My mom blames it for my bad posture," Ruffnutt replied. "I'm a sloucher, I'm sorry. But it is heavy."

"I'm thinking of cutting my hair again," Astrid mused. "What if I just chopped it off really short? I would never have to deal with it."

Ruffnutt stared at Astrid, thinking. "I don't know. Would you dare?"

"I don't know! I've never cut it that short. Why don't we both cut our hair and find out what it's like."

"Oh, no!" Ruffnutt shoved her mass of hair as far from Astrid as she could get it. "My goal is to get it to my feet and then possibly use it as some sort of weapon. It has taken years to get it this long. Years. But your hair… I don't know. This length makes your face look so sweet."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "I know. I'm known for being the cute one. Why do you think I bother with the skulls?"

"Yeah, but the skulls are so very you and—"

"Um, hello?"

Ruffnutt's heart whirled in her chest as she was hit with a sudden fantasy of the boy belonging to that voice being here for one reason and one reason only—to present her with flowers and the news that he had spoken to her father and already offered a bridal price for her. The incident of a few hours ago meant absolutely nothing to her.

Except it did. It did and she had still not forgiven Fishlegs for the humiliation. She would kill him if she had not sworn to ignore him.

"Oh, hi Fishlegs," Astrid said. "We're just… um…."

Fishlegs stood on the other side of the garden, twisting his hands and looking fearful. He was so cute when he looked fearful. Such a sweetie. No flowers, though. And he was alive which meant he had gone nowhere near her father with any sort of request.

Normally Ruffnutt would have thrown a band through her hair and pretended she had not been sitting in a garden brushing it, but she was not going to care what Fishlegs thought of her. She was not going to be the crazy girl hell-bent on killing something if that's what he expected. And she didn't care if he saw her being girly.

She wasn't going to care. Ignore him. Best revenge.

Revenge. Oh, but she liked the word revenge. Immediately the battle-type blood heat she loved so well hit her veins. This was easy. She could do this.

"I was… hoping I could talk to Ruffnutt."

Astrid quickly shot Ruffnutt a glance. Of course Astrid knew everything. Girls also enjoyed sharing secrets.

Ruffnutt nodded. Ignoring someone did not necessarily mean not speaking to them. It was a delicate balance.

"Of course, Fishlegs," Astrid said. "She's right here."

Fishlegs stared at Astrid as if she might punch him. Which Ruffnutt honestly would not put past her. "Alone?"

The girls locked eyes. Ruffnutt nodded again.

"That's fine." Astrid stood up, deftly braiding her hair as she did so. She was extremely talented that way. "I'll just head over to the forge to see Hiccup."

He visibly balked. "Why do you want to talk to him? He's busy! You don't need to talk to him—"

"Relax, I'll just bring him a snack, I'll be in and out and I won't ruin his work." And with that Ruffnutt was off.

Ruffnutt put on her best casual smile and sent it to Fishlegs, who looked ready to faint. "Yes?"

"Why is she going to see Hiccup?"

"Because they're an item, in case you missed out on that."

"Oh." He took a deep breath.

"You wanted to talk?" She kept her voice light, like she hadn't attacked him with a kiss a few hours before. "Is it about your injuries? I saw you wrestling with my idiot brother…"

"Yeah. Tuffnutt… sort of found out about the kiss."

Obviously. She kept back a grin. "Sorry about that. He's older by three minutes, so he has to do the big brother thing sometimes."

"I…" His face was bright red.

It was honestly the cutest thing she had ever seen. Was it so horrible her heart melted? She set her brush down. "Yes?"

"I wanted to talk about the kiss."

No. She couldn't get excited. She was ignoring him. "All right. Sorry if it was a bit awkward."

Another deep breath. "Okay, I'm just going to say it. You're a really nice person, Ruffnutt, and I consider you a friend. But… I don't want to date you. I'm not interested in that."

Another obviously. He had made that much clear when he had pushed her away. She inhaled through her nose. "Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh." She could do this. Make him suffer. He was here because he expected her to bawl and grab his leg and not leg or something incredibly pathetic like that. "All right. Well, it was just a kiss."

His eyes went wide. "Just a kiss?"

She shrugged. "Well, yeah. It didn't mean anything."

"Huh?"

"Of course not. Don't think bad of me, please. But I enjoyed it. But sparks? No, none."

"Oh." He bit his lip.

"Was that it?" She picked up her brush and returned to grooming.

"I guess so."

"All right, then. I'll see you round. Sorry about earlier."

"That's okay." He trudged away.

She couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride as she watched him go. She had done well.

* * *

He didn't get it.

He had done exactly what he had been told. The plain and the logical. He had gone up there, said the facts, he didn't want a girlfriend, and she had taken it quite well.

But with her hair all… down like that. She had really pretty hair.

But it wasn't about hair.

He had just officially ended a situation that was incredibly uncomfortable for him.

Then why did he now feel so confused?


	5. The Art of Berserking

And so it was that Fishlegs spent the next few hours hiding in his house, to the right of the hearth in the little reading corner he had said up for himself despite how crazy his parents thought him. At some point he would have to go out, go fishing with Tuffnut. He did want to do that, the only happy and sane thought in his head at the time. He liked fishing.

But now, he was distraught. He loved the word distraught. People tended to look at him funny when he used it, but it was a fantastic word. Except now that he was feeling it. He had never properly felt it before, the meaning of the word. And how he did feel it, the panic, the horror, the complete mess of emotions including ones that were not anywhere near happiness. Distraught.

Was distraught the right way to feel? Shouldn't he be happy? He had done what he had always vaguely assumed he could do—attract a member of the opposite sex.

Or had he? Did girls really do what Ruffnut had done? Just randomly kiss boys without a second thought? Weren't girls supposed to be the emotional ones? He fiddled with the carvings he had made—dragons, people, some wight of no particular title. Carving has his hobby, and it worked well for the games he made. Carving suited him and his admittedly crazy imagination. He had once made a carving for Ruff, a few years ago. Two, actually. One of her, the other being a dragon that she could kill. She had thought it pretty much the coolest thing ever.

He wondered if she still had it.

And just what had she been talking about? No sparks? After weeks of all her crazy flirting… there were no sparks?

What did that say about him?

Was this where it ended? She had been terrifying him, keeping him off the streets by fear of her presence and her sly smile and all that hair and the way she would just cozy on up to him. And then she finally got around to tricking him (how had he let himself be tricked?) and kissing him and now apparently he was no longer worth any further trouble.

Where was she next going to throw her affections? Snotlout? There were words for girls like Ruffnut. Not words Fishlegs used, of course. But there were words. Oh, there were words.

Fishlegs normally did not get angry. He could work himself into a bloodthirsty rage when battle required it, but anger was something altogether different. He was the nice guy who just happened to be a berserk. Nothing wrong with that. It was a charming quirk in his personality.

But now he felt angry. How dare she. How dare she kiss him and fling him to the side because she had failed to feel whatever sort of romantic sparkle of light girls felt they needed to feel upon a kiss. He had thought it had been a pretty good kiss. Terrifying and out-of-the-blue, but the terrifying part was mainly because he had enjoyed it so much. So apparently he was inexperienced. So apparently he did not know the relative quality of kisses. So apparently he was a failure in the romance department. Four of his best figurines went flying across the room to smash into the far wall. That was right. He still had an amazing arm. Wasn't he supposed to be strong? Hadn't she admired that about him?

With a deep inhale he stood up, fists clenched. Oh, yes, he was angry. It felt… kind of good, actually. No wonder Snotlout was always loosing his cool. It was fun. He liked the rush of the blood and energy. He felt so much stronger. Not quite berserk strong, but up there.

No, he did not want a girlfriend. He had no time for a girlfriend.

But he was not going to have some wench insult his obvious manliness by dropping him because she didn't like kissing him.

He stormed from the house. He could see people staring at him, backing subtly from his path. Probably wondering why he wasn't doing his chores or working at the carpentry. Probably wondering why he looked the way he did. He didn't care. He stormed into the forge, scarcely noticing how time passed.

Hiccup was still there. Good.

"Where's Astrid?" Fishlegs demanded.

Hiccup blinked. "What do you need her for? Did things go well with Ruffnut?"

Fishlegs snarled. He actually snarled. Good grief, maybe he was going to berserk soon.

Hiccup backed away. "Um… she left about half an hour ago. Said something about drawing water."

"Thank-you." A very fierce thank-you.

"Um… why do you ask?"

"I need to borrow your girlfriend for something."

"What? Get back here—"

But Fishlegs was already out the door.

The most commonly used spring was most commonly used because it was so close to the village. Just a short walk up the hill.

His pace did not change. His mind was abuzz and his blood was boiling. Oh, he wasn't going to hurt anyone. He just wasn't the type to do so. He'd die before hurting someone intentionally.

This was just logical revenge.

And soon the spring appeared.

It was perfect. Wonderfully perfect.

Ruffnut was there, too. And three other girls and a handful of other women. Of course they were there. Probably that mysterious time when half the women in Berk decided to gather together just to draw household water.

There were sure a lot of women. Fear began to chase the anger away. And the ferocity. Not much, but he did began to wonder just what he was doing.

There was Astrid, pot already full of water, chatting to a few other girls.

This was an incredibly stupid idea. What was he trying to prove?

But his body just kept moving.

Astrid turned around just in time. "Oh. Hey, Fishlegs. How are—"

He grabbed her around the shoulders and kissed her hard.

Gasps arose like wildfire.

The next thing he knew was a moment of incredible blinding pain on his face, the sensation of freezing water all over his body, and the thump and jar of his bones as he struck the ground.

Ouch.

And somewhere above him, sounding distant and foggy, was Astrid unleashing upon him a string of curses. He couldn't see her. The world was a moving blur of red and black.

She had not cared much for his kiss, either. Of course, she was taken. By Hiccup. Who would probably hear about this shortly.

So how did this work? Girls could kiss boys but not the other way around? He was so confused and he felt even less manly than before. Being taken out by a girl tended to do that to one.

All right. So maybe he wasn't the "smart" one after all.


	6. The Art of Planning an Attack

Ruffnut forgot her water. That was all right with her because she hated having to get water from the well anyway. It was a stupid chore and who cares if it was one of the few times she got to just talk to other girls? She liked talking to other girls! But now the well was forever ruined for her because Astrid had just taken out the only guy she had liked in a while.

And not only did she forget her water, she had smashed the stupid pot. Her pot. She had made it. Her best one. She had been very proud of it. It was big, it was pretty, it had a blood-red flower on the side and it had served very well in supplying her family with water. Now it lay on the ground in shards.

She stomped down the hill, willing herself not to cry. She should be crying. If it had been anyone else besides Fishlegs—Snotlout, perhaps—it would have been all right. It would have been downright funny. She would have even joined in, because nothing was more better than watching Astrid show up some guy twice her size who decided to get a little fresh with her without observing proper courtship rituals. Actually, today, five minutes ago, was the first time that had ever happened. But it would have been funny.

"Ruff!" Astrid called from behind her.

She didn't want to speak to Astrid. Oh, it wasn't Astrid's fault, but Ruffnut still did not want to speak to her. She picked up her speed.

"Ruff!" Astrid called again. "Wait for me!"

"No!" Ruffnut called back.

But then a rock struck her in the back of the head. She collapsed to her knees, fingers gingerly touching her scalp.

"Sorry," said Astrid as she fell to the ground next to Ruffnut.

"Sorry? You just pelted me with a rock."

"Yes. Sorry I had to do that, but you wouldn't wait up."

"What are we? Guys? Couldn't you just wait for me to stop bawling or something?"

Astrid laughed. "You aren't crying, though."

"I'm about to. That hurt. Am I bleeding? There's nothing on my fingers, but last time I got hit in the head all the blood got caught up in my hair before anyone knew a thing."

Astrid checked. "None that I can see. I wasn't trying to make you bleed. I swear. But I am a little furious right now. What was he thinking?"

"Fishlegs?" Ruffnutt leaned back in the grass and stared at the sky.

"Who else did you see kiss me back there? That was so unlike him! He's usually so skittish about these things. And why me? Was he mistaking me for you?"

Ruffnut gave a dry laugh. "If only. He totally knew it was you."

"I thought you talked to him back at the house!" Astrid lay down next to her. "What did you say to him?"

"I did talk to him. And I already told you the entire conversation."

"Are you sure you didn't leave anything?"

"Positive." She sighed and pulled out a handful of grass, stared at it, and let it fall back to the ground. "I know what happened. It's obvious. When I kissed him this morning, it got him thinking. Maybe he would like to have a girlfriend. So maybe I surprised him, but at least it got him thinking."

"Go on."

"And then he of course turned to you. I just got him the taste for a girlfriend. That was my purpose."

"Ruff, that's not fair!" shouted Astrid as she sat up. "Are you saying I stole him from you?

"No! I know you would never do that. If you were aiming to dump Hiccup and take up with Fishlegs, you wouldn't have attacked him up there. You would have enjoyed it. What I'm saying is that you're prettier. You look like you should be running through a field of wildflowers."

"I am not prettier than you. You have no right to say that."

"Oh, please. We both know it's true. I have the hair, but you have the cute face."

"Shut up. You've totally beautiful."

"That very well may be, but you're pretty. You're cute. Guys like pretty and cute."

Astrid groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Do you really think I attracted Fishlegs? I didn't mean to!"

"It's not your fault." Ruffnut sat up as well. "I'm going to kill him. I can't believe I ever liked him. That pig. That boarish half-troll Jotun reject with his books and his brains and his complete lack of sensitivity!"

"Here, here!" Astrid put in with a fist raised to the air. "You're too good for him. There are plenty of other boys in the village. Older boys. Smarter boys. You could snag one of them."

"I could…" Ruffnut mused. It was a tempting idea. Someone who had finished their growth spurts and were past adolescent immaturity. But her smile broke down. "I don't like anyone else! Gods, where do I get my bad taste?" She jumped to her feet. "Here's what I am going to do. Tuffnut and Fishlegs are going fishing today. They always do. One of those guy things. And remember how I told you after I kissed Fishlegs and he ran off and then I walked over and found him and Tuff fighting?"

Astrid nodded. "You're not going to unleash brother power, are you?"

"That's what it is there for, isn't it? And he's always talking about what a fearsome weapon he is or whatever. I'll just go crying to him and tell him Fishlegs was cruel to me. And then, when they go fishing, Fishlegs will probably be drowned. You know, Snotlout can be very chivalrous when he wants to be. Maybe I should go cry to him, too."

Astrid gave a small scream. "Hiccup."

The girls stared at each other.

The plan was too obvious.

"He's going to find out sooner or later," said Ruffnut slowly. "Does he get mad over stuff like that? Not to suggest you go around kissing boys, but…"

"He had better get mad," Astrid said with sudden ferocity. "He had so better get mad!"

"You'll have to tell him. We're the first ones down the hill. They are all probably still up there…" She glanced back.

There was Fishlegs, standing a ways up the hill, staring at them in horror. He wasn't close enough to have heard anything, but…

Wow, the pain was intense. Was it supposed to be this intense? She could barely look at him without her heart hurting.

"Let's get out of here," she muttered to Astrid, grabbing her arm.


	7. The Art of Attack

_I tried to make a longer chapter than usual today, so it kind of broke away from the alternating perspective chapters I had going on, but I'm still considering it a Fishlegs chapter with a small insertion that just had to be done. _

_So I'm referring to Fishlegs as apprenticing with a carpenter? Why? Why not? It kind of happened that way and maybe he could build a bookshelf or something._

_There are allusions to violence in this. But I don't feel like changing the rating. If it's too much, let me know. I kind of had a little too much fun._

_As for the actions of the boys, well, I've seen some very sweet and angelic teenage boys get very heated up and duke it how in extreme. So... that's my defense._

_Thanks for reading! You are all the best!_

* * *

Fishlegs headed down to the dock like he always did for the weekly fishing session. He was no longer sure he really wanted to go. Every part of him throbbed with pain—all recently from Astrid. Wow, that girl could fight. He had always known that. Why had he thought otherwise? Well, he hadn't been exactly expecting her not to fight. Had he been expecting anything? No, he had been in the middle of some really weird rage and had not been thinking. What kind of nice girl would actually want some boy walking up to her and kissing her?

He really didn't want to think about those moments of no thinking. The afternoon was too nice to be worrying about. And Ruffnut. And the look on her face when he had come down the hill to see her talking with Astrid. The sun was out, not too many clouds threatening it, and the water was a gorgeous even blue color. Maybe he did want to go fishing. Yes, it was a time for fishing. Good, trust-worthy fishing never let him down. He could push everything else from his mind and go sit on the dock for an hour or so with his friend Tuffnut.

Who was not there when Fishlegs arrived on the dock. A few of the adults were out on the boats casting nets and barely paid him a glance. It didn't bother him that Tuffnut had not yet arrived. That happened all the time. One of them was always going to arrive first. So he threaded the line, attached a tick he had pulled off a dragon, and cast.

He felt better as soon as the line gave the familiar blip sound into the water. Joyful, even. And serene. He was fishing. He had absolutely no girl problems whatsoever. Nor any other problems in the world. It was just him skipping out on carpentry by spending some time in beautiful nature with the boisterous talk of the men on the boats dotting the sounds of the water and the trees and birds lulling him into peaceful security.

"Fishlegs!"

Oh, here came Tuffnut now. Not terribly late. Maybe Tuffnut had forgotten all about that morning and wouldn't even bring it up. Actually, wasn't it against some sort of guy code to bring it up if all was well? "Hi, Tuffnut," he said without looking away from his line. Any further greeting would too be against the guy code.

But then a pair of hands yanked the pole from his grip and chucked it into the water before Fishlegs could comprehend what was happening. He sat where he was, blinking at his empty hands before looking out to the remaining ripples, the only signs that the pole had ever existed. Then, still flummoxed, he looked up to see not Tuffnut but Hiccup.

Pretty much the last person he would expect to be physically capable of tearing something from his hands, let alone actually doing it.

And to his credit Hiccup did look nervous about it. His face was red, his body trembling. "Sorry about that," he managed to say. "I swear I'll make you another one."

"But I made that one." Fishlegs was still too stunned to think of another complaint.

"And it may be the last one you ever make!" Tuffnut's voice shouted.

Somehow Fishlegs doubted Tuffnut was over this morning. Somehow it seemed the fishing session had been called off. He turned his head to see Tuffnut and Snotlout positioned in the middle of the dock. More than standing, but positioned. Blocking the only escape route. And Hiccup was still standing next to him and would probably jump in after him if he dove off the dock because Hiccup looked more than nervous. He looked about as angry as the other two. And while Fishlegs was positive he could take on any one of them, three was an entirely different number altogether.

The kiss he had given Astrid blasted back into his mind, closely followed by the kiss Ruffnut had given him that her brother still seemed to be confused about.

He took a deep breath and climbed to his feet. "Can we just take a moment and talk about this?"

"I'm done talking!" Tuffnut yelled as he punched a fist into his palm. "First there was that thing this morning that I was thinking about forgiving you for, but when my sister comes crying to me about you, well, forgiveness is out of the question. Besides, talking wastes time."

Funny thing to say for someone who liked to brag and blather on like Tuffnut, but Fishlegs didn't dare say that.

"Did your parents never teach you how to treat girls?" Snotlout looked a little too pleased at the idea of pounding something. Or someone. "I'm so angry with you right now. Do you have any idea how felt when Ruffnut came crying to me pleading the use of my friendship? Do you? I felt really angry!"

Fishlegs looked to Hiccup, who would hopefully show some help. After all, he had looked like he had gone too far by throwing the pole in the water and had even apologized about it. And Hiccup had always been so nice and friendly and helpful even if he was a whiner. Hiccup would be reasonable about this.

But no. Hiccup breathed deeply. "So I found out what you meant when you said you needed to borrow my girlfriend. Did she hit you for that?"

Fishlegs nodded. "Really hard." Maybe the presence of an earlier attack would vindicate Hiccup.

"Not hard enough." And with that he swung and swung hard into Fishleg's nose. Hiccup had surprisingly impressive force for a guy of his build.

"So first you kiss Ruffnut and then you dump her and then go kiss Astrid who has been claimed?" Snotlout shouted as he ran forward.

"I didn't claim Astrid!" snapped Hiccup as he prepared another punch.

Fishlegs put up his fists and wished desperately for the beserk rage of earlier. Now that he actually needed it.

* * *

"Should we feel bad?" Ruffnut asked.

"No," replied Astrid. "We did nothing but do what girls are expected to do. We have lit the kindling, but the bonfire was absolutely not our fault."

Ruffnut took a moment to consider that. "You're right. Don't boys naturally beat each other up every now and then? I mean, it's how they prove they're men."

The girls sat on the ground just outside the Great Hall. Anyone glancing at them would have assumed they were merely watching the horizon beginning to warm to orange with the end of the afternoon, but a closer walk would have revealed the real reason they were there.

The cacophony of the chief's booming voice from behind the doors.

"Though I really didn't think Stoick would care so much," Astrid said as she sharpened her axe.

"Well, it is next to impossible to get blood out of wood and the dock is a mess now."

"Boys really go at it when they go at it, don't they?"

Ruffnut laughed. "I take it back. I don't feel bad. I feel… good. There is a rush from being fought over. How does it feel having Hiccup rush to defend your virtue like that?"

"Like a kiss is really harming my virtue. But that was still just… aggravating!" She clenched her teeth as well as the axe. "But yes, I'm very proud of Hiccup for doing that. I just hope his shoulder heals. But it shouldn't be too hard to pop the arm back into the socket."

"I still think he got the least of it, from the looks of things. He'll be fine. Eh, they'll all heal. Eventually. Maybe."

"Not after Stoick finishes with them." Astrid set down her axe, stood up, and approached the door. "I'm trying to make sense of what he's screaming at them."

Ruffnut could not deny the sheer fun of this. And as a Viking, it truly was impossible to feel too much sympathy for people after a fight. She joined Astrid at the door. "We should sneak in."

"No! We'll get caught."

"We won't. I promise. We'll just slip in through the doors and they'll be so involved in this mass berating no one will notice." To prove it, she pushed open the door a crack. The shouting did not pause, only grew in intensity. Ruffnut couldn't help but laugh. "Come on."

With a choked giggle Astrid followed her in. Ruffnut quickly closed the door and let her eyes adjust to the firelight.

The boys were standing in the middle of the hall with the exception of Hiccup whose leg had taken something of a denting and was sitting at a bench clutching his right shoulder and grimacing. All four of them had their eyes on Stoick in the steady gaze of submissive respect and even shame. They all looked terrible. Tuffnut's face was significantly pale except for purpling and swelling eyes. He clutched a blood-soaked rag to his nose. Snotlout had a bump on his forehead, probably from being smashed against the dock, and his eyes, while still on Stoick, were out of focus. Fishlegs had added bruises to his prior collection and was cradling one arm. He was also still dripping water from his clothes as well as blood from a forehead cut and his swollen nose, though not at the extent of Tuffnut.

Ruffnut still felt no guilt.

Besides, their injuries had nothing on Stoick's voice.

"—all probably had work to do, making yourselves useful! People expected you to be places helping! You have duties! There was no scheduled combat training! You would have known about it, but you all had to take things into your own hands! And not even in a discreet place but where you could be seen by the entire village and distracted workers who had better things to do than abandon their nets to come after a few idiots who don't know the first thing about fighting or apparently how to get along with others. You think that is how respectable Vikings act?"

Hiccup opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't answer that! And I promise you you'll get more of this just for you when we get home tonight. No son of mine was raised to behave this way. I'll imagine it will be the same way for the rest of you. And I will be telling your mothers specifically. Did the dock look like a place for fighting? And that wasn't even fighting! It was a shameful imitation of a drunken brawl. I'm amazed none of you were drowned."

Ruffnut and Astrid slid, grinning, to the floor next to the wall. This was good.

"What the four of you have done is a disgrace to our tribe! You think you actually showed skill or bravery there? You looked like fools. That's how toddlers fight. Apparently I can expect better behavior from toddlers. Apparently you'll have to be treated as toddlers. You better say goodbye to daylight because it's the last any of you will be seeing for awhile. Except when you're working. Because you'll be doing plenty of that. We'll find plenty of chores outside your normal duties. If you don't get those bloodstains out you might even be replacing the dock. Oh, but you will all be praying for death at the end of each day."

Stoick took a deep, apparently much-needed breath, and asked in a steely voice "Who wants to attempt to explain themselves first?"

The room buzzed with the boys' silence until Snotlout muttered something about really needing to lie down.

"Well, we first went after Fishlegs," mumbled Tuffnut through the rag, "But then Hiccup accidentally kicked Snotlout during it and that got him mad and then Fishlegs got me in the neck but I thought it was Snotlout so I punched him and—"

Stoick sighed, shook his head, and help up his hand. "Oh, I don't even care. That's not explaining, that's not even a reason. Real men have a reason to fight and you're all too thick-skulled to get that and instead throw yourselves at each other and—"

Maybe Ruffnut should feel guilty. But listening to this was way too much fun.

* * *

The sun was already setting by the time Fishlegs stumbled from the Hall, deciding this was the worst day of his life in quite awhile. At least he had managed a few good hits. He was pretty sure his arm was broken or at least sprained, but the worst had been the near-eternal shouting from Stoick. For a man of so few words he really could find a bunch, though it had been pretty much the same themes repeated over and over with increasing frustration. Fishlegs would probably be still in there listening to it if it hadn't been for Snotlout finally passing out. The healer was in there attending to him, and according to Stoick would be coming around to the rest of them in turn. Eventually. Maybe. At least they had all been told they could go right home.

He wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He hadn't gotten in a fight in over a year. And now two in one day plus getting punched by a girl. Vikings might glorify violence, but somehow that didn't apply in the same way to Viking youth. Still, he really thought he should rest. So he limped down the hill. People returning to their households for the night watched him with curiosity. Who else had heard about the fight on the dock? The whole village had to know by now.

He didn't care.

But he did feel a little twinge of anger at Ruffnut. If she hadn't had kissed him, none of this would have ever happened.

Though maybe if he hadn't been so bothered by her statement that the kiss had meant nothing it wouldn't have happened.

Darn it. He didn't want it to be his fault.

He lifted his eyes to see a figure winding her way along the path next to a field, carrying a water jug.

Ruffnut.

No. He dove behind the first thing he saw. A fence. Okay, basically useless, but it was getting dark and maybe if he lay down she wouldn't notice him. His body was stiff and sore, but he managed it. Now he just had to wait for her to pass by.

"Fishlegs, what are you doing on the ground?" She stood above him, her voice cool.

"Um…"

"Were you actually trying to hide from me?"

He climbed back to his feet. Wow, that hurt.

She stared at him over the water jug. "I heard you all got in trouble today. Someone broke Tuffnut's nose and he bled all over the dock."

He didn't dare say it was because of her. He nodded.

"Wow, that was stupid. And I heard another rumor Snotlout has a concussion."

"Probably."

She continued to stare at him with those cold eyes. He wanted to run the other way, but didn't know if he could.

"So why did you kiss her?" she finally asked.

Like he could even begin to explain. "I…"

"You don't know. You just went up and kissed her. I broke my jug because of that. My mom was so mad at me. Had to take this old one back up to get water."

His entire body was bruised and his arm was killing him and she was complaining about a broken jug. Still, kissing Astrid had not been one of his smarter ideas. He hadn't meant for her to break a jug. "Do you want me to carry that for you?" Why did he say that? He couldn't carry it, he could barely move his arm.

A tiny smile moved over her lips. "No. I can carry it just fine. Goodnight." And she marched away, her hair whipping him in the face.

He hadn't realized she had been standing that close. Nor that he had breathed properly while she had stood there. But he must have breathed. Because he also hadn't realized before she smelled so good.


	8. The Art of Shepherding

_So Astrid takes over for the first part, but I just really wanted to tell that little story._

* * *

The weather wasn't promising. The sky was steel grey and the wind was forebodingly quick. Ah, well. Maybe a good storm would wash Tuff's blood from the dock. Astrid laughed over the memory of the brawl as she stared away from the village. She was supposed to be getting flowers and stuff for wool dye and wondered how near she could remain. Storm weather wasn't the best time for gathering.

Her sight fell over a pasture and the sight of Hiccup sitting against the fence.

Well, maybe her route could take her past the pasture… She moved the basket up to her elbow and ran. "Hi, Hiccup!"

He had removed his leg. It rested in his lap, and he was using his left hand to try to pound a rock against the dent. His right arm had been bound tightly against his side. "Hi, Astrid." His eyes were fixated on his work, which didn't seem to be going well.

She set down her basket and sat down next to him. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Watching the sheep. Part of my punishment. I'm sure you heard about what happened yesterday."

"I heard a few rumors," she said, suppressing a grin. "And I did see you and a few others being dragged away. You hurt your shoulder. Saw that much. You pulled it out of its socket."

"That was Fishlegs. I think. It might have been Snotlout. Somebody pulled my arm."

"You poor thing. How does it feel?"

He shrugged, then winced. "Not bad."

Boys always had to act tough. "So what happened after your dad yelled at you?"

"You heard about that?"

"Your dad is really loud."

"Well, we went home and he yelled at me some more, then popped my arm back in which hurt more than actually getting it hurt, amazingly enough. He did it without warning. He had told me to take off my shirt so he could look at it, then he went back to the lecturing. Then he randomly grabbed me and shoved my arm back in. After that, he went on about how proud he was of me getting in that fight. I'm getting some really mixed signals from him."

"Poor you." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "So what are you doing out here?"

"I'm not allowed to move my arm for a few days, so I'm useless in the forge. My dad thought staring at the sheep all day would be extremely useful. I could protect our mutton and wool supply. Great. I haven't even been out here an hour and I'm about to lose it."

"What about this?" Astrid nodded at the prosthetic in his lap.

"Got dented in the fight. Probably when I was flung against the post. Another brilliant punishment. I don't get to fix it until my shoulder heals. My dad said that if I can barely walk I can't get in any more trouble."

"So you're trying to fix your leg with a rock."

He stared at her, pleading. "Steal me a hammer from the forge. Please."

"I would get in so much trouble."

"Astrid, I'm going crazy."

"You shouldn't have got in that fight, then. I'm not going against your dad's orders. Again."

"You hate me."

"Yes, when you do stupid things. Why did you get in that fight?"

Hiccup set down the rock. "Because of Fishlegs."

"Well, he was a little off yesterday. And I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I just told you because I thought you should know."

"I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else kissing you."

"My hero. Maybe you've all learned your lessons and other boys kissing me won't be a problem anymore."

"What lessons?"

She didn't answer. She just kissed him. That shut him up.

* * *

Ruff was certain she had gotten to Fishlegs last night. Fantastic. All her work was finally paying off. He had asked to carry her water jug. And no one had ever asked to carry her water jug before. Probably for fear of being hit with it. But she wouldn't have hit Fishlegs. He had suffered plenty at that point. The point was that he had asked.

Of course, that was after she had caught him once again hiding from her. Did he really think he could hide? So she had in fact cornered him. Maybe offering to carry the jug with a broken arm was a defense to distract her. But the act of doing so would have been really sweet. Or it seemed that way. Usually she would never dare let anyone do anything for her. Maybe a boy doing something for her would rub her the wrong way.

Shouldn't she eventually be allowed some opportunity to find out how she would feel?

Something rushed through the trees where she had been standing for the past fifteen minutes thinking. Her knife instinctively flung itself from her hand and whirred into the trees. Then it plummeted back to the ground, complete with a dead squirrel.

Cool. She hadn't done that in a few weeks. So much more exciting than her chores. She pulled the knife from the squirrel, wiped the blade on her skirt, and dropped the squirrel into her bag.

Boys liked dead things, didn't they?

Ruffnut found Fishlegs in one of the sheep pastures. He and Hiccup, the ones with arm injuries that made them otherwise useless, were being punished with shepherd duty despite the fact that no one really watched the flocks. Which would have been a smart thing to do back when dragons were problems. Now the job of shepherding was reserved for punishments. Because no Viking could handle staring at sheep all day. Though Tuffnut had been actually jealous, wondering why Fishlegs and Hiccup got to sit around while he had weed a field. Lazy idiot. He would never believe that Fishlegs looked bored.

For a moment she wondered why she had come. To deliver a dead squirrel? Well, it was a nice and thoughtful "get well soon" gift. That was it. Then she would leave, continuing to pretend she didn't care. Which she was really quite good at it, if she said so herself

"Lose any sheep yet?" she asked as she entered the pasture.

Fishlegs glanced up at her in automatic terror. "There's no predators to scare them off right now or attack them."

Always so… factual. "How's the arm? Get a good wound?"

He lifted the wrapped arm. "It's broken."

She laughed. There was something so… cute about an injured man. "You totally deserved that. You all did."

He frowned and continued to stare at the sheep. She could tell he really wanted to get away from her. Well, so much for her hope of having got to him. "I kissed Astrid yesterday because I wanted to show that you that I could kiss."

That was pretty much the last thing she had expected out of him. "What?"

"Well, when I was talking to you yesterday you acted like the kiss didn't mean anything which suggested it was a really bad kiss and I felt insulted so I had to prove you wrong."

"What?" she repeated.

"Please don't make me say all that again."

"So you decided to prove me wrong on Astrid?"

He picked at his bandages. "She was the first one that came to mind."

She closed her eyes. Unbelievable. "So you decided to prove your manliness on Astrid? This was all about your weird male ego? And Astrid happened to be the nearest wench? How were you supposed to know how well you did? Was she supposed to automatically swoon from your manly kiss?"

"Um…"

Men were such idiots. She pulled the squirrel from her bag and chucked it at him. "Here. Roast it or something."

She stomped off.


	9. The Art of Storm Safety

Congratulations on uki200 for being the 100th reviewer. Wow. I feel so loved! Thank-you, everyone, for all your comments and tips!

By the way, for bonus points, name this movie:

_"Lightning has just struck my brain!"_

_"That must have hurt."_

* * *

Fishlegs watched Ruffnut stomp off. She was mad. Again. Why was she always so mad? What had he said that was so wrong? He had confessed, hadn't he? Wasn't that what girls wanted guys to do? He had thrown everything on the line and explained the reason he had kissed Astrid. Which apparently had been a really stupid idea.

But that seemed to only make things worse. What exactly was he supposed to do with a dead squirrel? Was she serious? He didn't want a dead squirrel! What was her problem?

Above, the thunder growled, and a few sheep panicked and ran into the fence. Sheep were so stupid. Was he supposed to protect them from lightning? He didn't want to protect them from lightning.

He wanted to make sense of things!

"Ruffnut!" He jumped to his feet, nearly fell over, but still managed to end up in a standing position. No luck. She was already a good distance away and it was still thundering.

Now it was stupid to keep calling her name if she couldn't hear him. Wasn't it? He didn't want to stand there like an idiot. He slumped back down and stared at the sheep.

If there were going to be lightning, shouldn't he go back inside and forget the sheep? Unless the lightning were another part of punishment. His parents would probably make it that way. They were already furious.

Yet he felt miserable and it had nothing to do with his punishment.

If he had wanted to show Ruff he could kiss, why had he kissed Astrid instead? Ruffnut did have a point. What had he been trying to prove?

But he had answered that. He had tried to prove he could kiss. Was that so wrong?

He considered the situation logically. He was a logical thinker, after all. Astrid had never asked to know about his kissing ability. Ruffnut was clearly the one who was interested. She was the one who had wanted sparks.

Logically, he should have kissed her.

Lightning split the sky as realization struck him. Oh. That was why she had been mad.

He suddenly felt very stupid.

But at least the problem had been resolved. He now understood why she was now mad and throwing dead squirrels at him. She had wanted him to kiss her if he was going to be kissing him.

No, that didn't resolve the question.

She said the kiss from the day before had meant nothing. So logically it shouldn't be mattering whom he kissed.

Ruffnut was extremely possessive over whom she kissed. That or… or she still liked him even though she said she hadn't. Which meant she had been lying to him yesterday.

For the time period of another strike of lightning, he understood girls.

But just as quickly the understanding was lost, his head hurt, and he still felt miserable.

So why was he miserable? So Ruff still liked him. He already knew that. Maybe he should be flattered a girl liked him. In truth, it felt good. Definitely an ego boost. He was liked by a girl who was strong and tough and pretty and who smelled nice and…

He gasped and stood up. What was his problem? He did like her! Maybe he did want a girlfriend. Why not Ruff? Tuffnut would probably kill him, but besides, Ruff was a great choice.

The sheep were already moving. Was he supposed to take them somewhere if there were a storm? No one had bothered to tell him. Oh, well.

Fishlegs jumped over the fence with his own good arm. "Ruff!" he screamed as loud as he could. Where would she have gone? Home? It was storming, people who were sensible would go home.

He broke into a run, broken arm forced tightly against his chest, and tore across the field towards the village, calling Ruff's name the entire time.

Finally he saw her. She had stopped to talk to somebody. Perfect. The fates had decreed it to be so.

"Ruff!" he called.

She turned and glared at him.

So what? He was going to run over there and show her that he could kiss and this entire mess would be over and…

There was a crack as lightning struck a tree. Something unseen then jolted through the ground.

He was trying to decide the most appropriate synonym for "shaky" when he blacked out.


	10. The Art of Questions and Answers

"I'm cursed!" It was the latest in a long line of realizations of just what Ruff was. She had spent the past two days spewing out different theories to whomever would listen—a group that mainly consisted of Astrid.

"You're not cursed," Astrid replied with infinite patience. "If you were cursed, you would be the one who had been struck by lightning."

The two girls sat outside Fishlegs' house—the popular place to be for anyone who remotely cared about Fishlegs, had the time for active sympathy, and hadn't been scared away by the healer. Still, despite the last two conditions, there were usually a few people coming by to check on how Fishlegs was doing. Currently, however, Ruff and Astrid were the only people in the vicinity.

"I mean I'm a cursed object," Ruff said darkly as she fiddled with the monkey's fist knot at the end of her braid. "I cause pain. I kill people."

"Not actively," Astrid pointed out with the appropriate reassurance.

"I'm bad luck."

"I already told you, the fight the other day was only begun by us."

She just had to have brought that up. Ruff buried her face in her knees. For the first time she actually felt guilty about that. If she hadn't encouraged all those boys to fight Fishlegs they wouldn't have gotten in trouble and Fishlegs would have never been punished with shepherding and would probably not have been outside in that storm next to that tree.

Astrid sighed. "It's not your fault! Everyone knows it's dumb to be outside during a storm."

"I was outside! I didn't get struck by lightning!"

"And that's a good thing. Do you really wish you had been struck by lightning?"

"Yes," she replied without even needing to think. "Me rather than him. Fishlegs is a nice person. That can't be said about me. Besides… now he gets to survive it and tell that story."

Astrid laughed. "I thought he just got the ground shock from the tree. Maybe some day you will be struck directly by lightning!"

"Really? You think so?" Then Ruff shook her head. "Why are we having this conversation?"

"I'm just trying to make you feel better."

"Thanks." She sighed. "But… he was running after me. He was trying to tell me something. I bet if he had stayed where he was, he would have been fine."

"We already discussed that. Not your fault. His choice and rotten luck."

They had discussed everything. Astrid was a great one for discussion. Logical, comforting, while still possessing the right amount of sympathy and emotional understanding. And Ruff was grateful for all those qualities in her friend. But Astrid refused to acknowledge that Ruff was being punished. Despite all the stupid things Fishlegs had done, what Ruff had done had been even more stupid. She had reacted to all these things like… a girl. Would it have been so hard to just tell Fishlegs she liked him? Would it have been so hard to just tell him his kissing of Astrid had bothered her? She had confessed everything to her brother the night after the accident, desperate for a little male perspective. And he had told her she was an idiot and no normal guy was going to comprehend her weird mind games.

It was all her fault.

And so she was going to make it better. Fishlegs had fortunately woken up that morning, thought unfortunately without heads or tails of what was going on. The moment he started making sense would lead to the moment she would be allowed to see him. And that would lead to the moment she could spell it all out for him and ask him in simple male terms if he felt the same way.

* * *

To answer everyone's question, yes, Fishlegs did remember getting with the lightning—though technically he had not been "struck" but simply a little too close to the tree that had been struck. He had not really had enough time to think about it. Lightning moved pretty quickly. And yes, he remembered everything that had led up to the incident. So it had taken a few hours to sort everything out mentally, but in his defense it made sense that he would senseless. But he felt pretty stable by the time the afternoon rolled around. Not bad for having spent two days unconscious.

He only hoped that the lightning blast would be the last of his injuries for a while. So maybe a few other minor wounds had healed, but his arm was still broken. There couldn't be anything in the near future to top lightning, could there?

Maybe he was cursed.

Yes, he had to be cursed. That was the only explanation for it. Why else would so much bad stuff happen to him in the course of two days?

The door opened, and his mother poked her head through. "How are you feeling?"

Besides feeling very tired and very dizzy, there seemed to be no extreme complaints. "Fine."

"Would you like a visitor?"

The first one since had had started making sense. Who would it be? "Sure."

Ruffnut slowly entered the room. Her face was pale. Wow. She wasn't even trying to act tough.

Fishlegs stared at her. Of all the people to come see him, she would be first. Of course she would be first. The reason he had been injured. No, not the reason. But the lightning sure had gotten in the way of what he was going to say to her. And he still remembered what he had been going to tell her.

He just had absolutely no idea how to say it.

"Are you all right?" she asked, kneeling next to his bed.

"I'm fine."

"Fishlegs, you were struck by lightning. I saw the whole thing!"

He suddenly found himself embarrassed. She had seen that? "Well, I'm not dead."

"I know. I'm glad you're not dead. And if you are really going to claim to be fine, I have something to tell you."

Uh-oh. Well, maybe while she talked he could think of the words for what he needed to say.

"I like you, Fishlegs."

Obviously. He had deduced that a long time ago. But he did not dare interrupt.

"I think you're cute. I think you're smart. I think you're nice. Those are all great qualities. In face, I would like to go out with you."

He had been right! She still liked him!

"So I have a question for you," she continued. "Do you like me? In a romantic sense? Would you be interesting in going out with me?"

Oh, boy. That was three questions. Well, maybe two and a half. And she liked him? What about the kissing? Did she or did she not like the kissing? Half a day wasn't nearly long enough to prepare himself for these questions!

So he just stared at her, and slowly the realization that, right before the incident, he hadn't been planning on telling her anything. He had just been going to kiss her. And now she wanted to talk and answer questions.

"I need an answer," she said, glaring.

"I thought you didn't think we had any sparks when we kissed?" He winced, anticipating yelling or hitting for not answering her two and a half questions.

But instead she laughed. "No, you idiot! I was lying!"

So girls did lie.

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I should have been honest. Now answer my question."

He tried to remember the questions. They were logical. Yes and no answers. He could do that. Except… she was sitting right by him. And she smelled really good. And she was pretty hot. And, unless she was lying again, she did like him. He took a deep breath. "Yes, I like you. Yes, I like you romantically. And yes, I would like to go out with you."

Her face broke into a wide grin. "Really?"

Really? Was she analyzing his answers? Had he answered incorrectly? Maybe he could distract her from too much thinking. "Ruff, um, when I was coming after you in the storm, I was… planning on kissing you."

Her face darkened. "Why? To prove something?"

Why was this so difficult? "Because I realized that I do like you. Romantically." Boy, that was hard to say. Why did girls like talking about their feelings so much? It was easier when she had tricked him into going into the woods and had kissed him there.

The smile was back. She did have a cute smile. "Well, we could kiss now."

That did sound nice. In fact, that sounded awesome.

But before he could think, she was in his lap, arms around his neck, kissing him.

It was better than the woods. Maybe the lightning had left a few sparks. He happily kissed her back.

At last they broke apart. She smiled at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

Another one?

"Why are guys so confusing?"

_**The End!**_

_**

* * *

**Thanks to everyone so far who has read! This is the first story on this site I've actually finished, and it was a lot of fun. _

_If you like this ship, here are a few more excellent stories:_

_Irritation, Hatred, and Something Else by Backroads_

_A Visit of Remorse by Hell's Fiery Belle_

_Never Think by keep-me-posted_

_I Can't Wait by keep-me-posted_

_That Don't Impress Me Much by keep-me-posted_

_Girls Like Flowers by Backroads_


End file.
